The moon never seems to look as big in a photograph as it does to the naked eye. I took this picture last night, on the windy road on those islands in Lake Champlain that crosses over from Vermont to New York.
I caught it on the fly. It looked to me like a giant orange basketball on the horizon.
Had I known, a hour earlier, I could have asked a professional photographer, Reed Prescott, why it's so hard to capture the moon in a photo.
He has a store-front studio in Bristol, Vermont. Reed Prescott is described as a New England Landscape artist on this webpage that has a painting of colourful Adirondack (I think) chairs on Lake Champlain and it leads to the artist's own webpage that showcases a beautiful painting of a New England mill.
There's a Youtube video featuring his paintings and a painting of Bristol as it evolves.
My husband and I took a spontaneous trip to Burlington yesterday (he's on vacation) and we walked along the water and lunched at a pub and bought a few things on the pedestrian mall. The usual. So afterwards I suggested we drive a little more into Vermont.
My husband replied, "But it's already 4 pm."
And I replied, "And so what?"
And we had a little fight. I'm spontaneous and my husband is not. (I was amazed he said Yes to my suggestion to go to Burlington.) That puts a damper on my spirit sometimes.
"We're in Vermont," I said (in a manner that was probably pretty screechy.) "Everyone is friendly and speaks English here."
Anyway, I got my way. (And he suggested I pick the route, so I chose a route off the highway that led to a National Park. (I was using a paper map because our Tom Tom seems to be having a nervous breakdown.) This paper map shows that a potter lives in the area.
We drove for 20 to 30 minutes, my husband complaining that he HATES not knowing where he's driving to, and didn't find any pottery studio, or national park, but found a pretty town instead! Bristol. An artist's colony.
A town with a trendy cafe (where I suspended my sugarless diet with a mocha coffee) and sundry artisan shops -oh, and Mr. Prescott's studio.
The Town of Bristol
A Street in the Town
A little rosette I bought at the artisan store, made out of a recycled zipper.
I didn't take a picture of Mr. Prescott or his store. He was friendly and when I walked into his studio he was converting slides to JPG with a special machine. He showed me a picture of a sunset at Cape Cod taken long ago.
I didn't tell Mr. Prescott that I haven't ever been to Cape Cod although it is high up on my list. But that trip will have to be planned well in advance.
I'd like to visit Nantucket. I have already, but only on YouTube.
Flora Nicholson of Threshold Girl visited in 1908 with her cousin May Watters. They actually were brought there by nurses from the Newton Hospital. They were visiting May's brother, Henry, a doctor in Newton Center.